(I don’t know what this is but I’m not trying to make sense anymore…)
The girl ran away from the Devil, and towards the sun; but the sun was cold and ran faster than her. She was left with the night and stopped running. She turned around and apologized to the Devil. Perhaps he could have taught her a thing or two as well. Like, how to shout louder, and how to let go. Hell is warm of its own warmth, even in winter. To her frozen heart, that thought looked like a chance. Like the possibility of happiness. Like your lover’s hoodie when you’re naked the morning after. She felt naked, and cold, and with a card left for her on the bedside. A card without a name, that said thank you, and meant goodbye.